Mendacium
by Mizutaka
Summary: [oneshot] In an attempt to make her young son's life a normal one despite the obvious strain that would defile it in the future, Narcissa Malfoy goes to her husband to try and convince him that tools cannot be made without care.


And here we have my first Harry Potter fic . . . which hopefully isn't as messed up as I think it is. X_x Thankfully I picked two characters who don't get much screen time except for being evil-like, and one who happens to be a baby in this story so he can't do much, so I don't have to worry about having an abundance of out-of-characterness. Yay. Anyway, please read on and tell me what you think!   
  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. Gee, go figure, huh? Yeah, JK Rowling owns Harry Potter - not me. So don't sue, 'cause I don't have any money to give you because I'm not making any off of this fic. In fact, I want some money so I can go buy a DVD or something . . .   
  
**Story Key:**   
italics = emphasis   
". . ." = speaking   
'. . .' = quotes   
  
Anyway, onto the fic . . .   
  
  
**Mendacium**   
  


_"I'll believe all your lies,   
Just pretend you love me.   
Make believe, close your eyes,   
I'll be anything for you."_   
-Anything For You, Evanescence 

  
Narcissa Malfoy stared at her husband blankly, crystal eyes reflecting nothing of the soul; hands folded behind her back primly, long, pale fingers laced intricately within each other; golden hair in loose waves, tame and clean, each individual stand shining in the dim light.   
  
In the eyes of the beholder she could be the image of perfection.   
  
The blonde woman waited quietly for Lucius to look up from his work, a firm patience settled throughout her slender form, although inside, part of her desperately wished that she didn't have to wait for this man in front of her to acknowledge her presence. Then again, what else was she to expect being born into the regal and pureblooded family of Black and then married off into the family of Malfoy?   
  
"Narcissa," a deep voice started, interrupting her precarious thoughts as it floated through the room darkly. "Why do you grace me with your presence at this hour?"   
  
"It's about our son Lucius."   
  
She tensed slightly as the blonde man sighed in something similar to annoyance, as if this were a subject he had been dreading; leaning back into his leather chair and reaching up with his left hand to brace his temples as a familiar ache began to grow deep within his skull.   
  
"The Dark Lord is growing in power everyday and soon the wizarding world will be his - there is no doubt about it," the woman started, throwing in the false loyalty for good measure, before changing the subject back to her only child. "I've been wondering for a while, and now I require an answer - tell me Lucius, did you bargain him off?"   
  
With a wry smirk in her direction, a twisted one that would appear on her son's face in upcoming years, Lucius replied simply with, "That was the reason why he was born."   
  
Narcissa flinched slightly at the harsh statement, a crude look of shock fleeting across her face for a split second. A feeling of dread spread down her spine as she realized that somehow her husband had grown all the more heartless over the last few months than over the years when his Dark Lord had become a true menace to the world.   
  
What in the world had she been thinking when she had agreed to this? Agreed to have a child to call her own?   
  
"He'll figure out that something is wrong with this; you've seen him - he's a smart child Lucius," she stated doggedly, trying to get her point across to him without having to be strictly blunt about it. Although somewhere deep in her heart she had realized prior to the conversation, to her wedding commitment, that he would never listen to her riddles, let alone anything else that left her mouth.   
  
"As it should be."   
  
"If Draco is meant to a tool, then would you grant me one request?" she asked, pausing as he glanced up at her skeptically, the sheer disregard in his stature striking her harshly, but she continued on, hoping that maybe her input would be considered.   
  
"It is a known fact - tools are useless unless they are cared for, unless they are created in the perfect environment, for who else nay a blacksmith can forge the flawless blade?" she asked him, hiding herself behind the calculated words that promised faulty devotion, the rhetorical question fluttering between them as she continued. "All I ask of you is that you pretend to love me, as if, our matrimony had been of the heart. If things keep going the way they are, he'll break free - of emptiness if nothing else."   
  
The blonde man stared at her for a moment, silently considering her words, and she was encouraged to continue.   
  
"Pretend to love me Lucius. I'll believe all of your lies to him - I'll enforce those lies and I'll prepare him for what is to come . . . just, just pretend to love me. For him. If he can't have a childhood at least let him believe he can."   
  
"Are you threatening me?" the blonde man questioned sharply; getting to his feet and slamming his hands to the desk - eyes narrowed into thin slivers of liquid steel that cut through her easily, shaking her to the core as the thought of 'maybe this wasn't such a brilliant idea' filtered through her mind. "Narcissa? Are you saying that you'll defy me if I do not agree with your terms? Are you saying that unless I work to make his childhood exist that you will poison Draco with foul thoughts regarding our Dark Lord?"   
  
"I would never imply such a thing, Lucius," she replied steadily, heart pounding strongly in her breast as she continued, pouring on extra emphasis of her 'support' of the Lord Voldemort, "He will belong to the Dark Lord. I'm only saying that without the proper care, our son will not be fit for such a task and I see no reason to enforce rules upon him if he ends up defying them once he discovers that something about his life is different from other children."   
  
"Then I suggest that you be more careful with what you say in the future, Dear. Someone may misunderstand your meaning," he snapped at her, stressing the pet name cruelly as he watched for a reaction. However, he was disappointed as she stood as poised as ever before him, the picture of perfection despite the hands strained white as she clenched them behind her back and out of sight.   
  
"Although I do I supposed that in the end you are correct - we cannot allow Draco to become useless before his purpose comes to pass," Lucius murmured softly, anger suddenly drained as he slid back into the chair fluidly, winter grey eyes flashing as his Dark Lord's plans flickered before his eyes. "On my life, I will agree to your terms."   
  
Relief flooded the blonde woman and if she had not been trained to be the perfect trophy wife, emotionless and calm, she would have burst into a genuine smile as bright as the stars during the witching hour and as vivid as a newly blossomed rose against the dewy green of a garden.   
  
For a moment, she thought she was safe.   
  
However the tranquil mood that had settled through the room died with Lucius' next words, cold with malice, "Oh, Narcissa . . . your mask is weak. Do you truly believe that this would be so simple for you? After you openly defied the Dark Lord to my face? No, you are not so much of a fool, are you?"   
  
She stepped back suddenly at the onslaught of his words, totally losing her finely polished composure as her pale, grey eyes, a shade of the finest silver widened and her dry lips parted slightly in shock. In an instant all hope of success - all hope of fooling her husband into thinking that she merely wanted Draco to have a normal childhood so he could play into Lord Voldemort's hands died and she felt a heavy despair leak into her heart.   
  
"I am no fool, my flower; remember this and never take me as one again," he said, voice shockingly cold. With a twisted smile that greatly defiled his features, the flick of his right wrist, and the uttered word of 'Crucio' a pain-ridden scream echoed throughout the empty halls of the manor.   
  
The pain blossomed beautifully, dripping from Narcissa's lips as she writhed on the floor of his private study, and within seconds that seemed like years on end it dissipated, leaving her gasping for breath as black danced before her eyes.   
  
She didn't know how long she had lain; sprawled across the floor staring up at the ceiling blankly, absently admiring the intricate designs that were carved into the dark, cherry wood-beams, but when she finally snapped to she found that the room was cold and empty.   
  
Lucius had left long ago.   
  
With a deep, guttural groan that was quite unbecoming of a woman of her high status, she heaved herself from her ground, bracing herself on the desk as her vision went blurred and invisible needles dug into her raw nerves.   
  
She stood like that for several minutes, hunched over the desk like a gargoyle one would find on a church building, waiting for the pain to subside just a little so she could move on, and moments later she found herself struggling to get out of the room.   
  
Later, Narcissa would not be able to tell you how long she had stumbled drunkenly down the vast halls of the manor; it had seemed like years, the pain drumming through her mind quite loudly. But as she finally reached her destination, a dark room with but a few meager possessions inside, her journey was over and time seemed to stop.   
  
Slumping on a chair in utter exhaustion, she looked down beside her, smiling faintly at the sight. As she stared at the sleeping boy, all the turmoil in her heart was instantly at peace and all regrets left her mind. For inside she was happy, even if she had to live with this pain for the upcoming weeks, at least he would be able to have a normal childhood, if nothing else in his life was to be sinless.   
  
Yes, the Dark Lord Voldemort would come for him because yes, the sole reason Draco Veritas Malfoy had been born was to be a tool of darkness. But with her actions, Narcissa had guaranteed her son a childhood - a childhood that was bound to be twisted, yes, but it prevented Draco from becoming a drone and that was all that mattered. Because if he grew up thinking for himself, never mind the ideas that Lucius would probably plant in his mind, then maybe he would become his own person instead of a string-puppet.   
  
Narcissa smiled and with the tentativeness of the innocent woman she had once been years prior to courtship and marriage, she reached down into the crib and stroked the impossibly soft skin of the child's face, eyes softening at the sight. This was her son - this perfect child was the reason she still lived.   
  
"I'm sorry Draco," she said quietly, sighing as she stroked the fine strands of hair from her small son's forehead, the child nuzzling unconsciously into the warmth of her hand. "You're life is going to be a lie."  
  
**Owaru**   
  
  
  
Well, there was my first one-shot fic let alone Harry Potter fic. You all should feel special that you got to read two of my firsts. Oh yeah. ^_^ Anyway, what did you all think? Did anyone get confused? Did everyone love it? Does anyone think I'm a psycho? Well? Feel free to review and tell me what you think!  
  
Okay, if anyone totally got lost during my fic, here's a little explanation: Basically Narcissa decided that if Draco didn't get to have a normal childhood he would become a drone of his father due to the fact that he would be treated as one. If someone is born as a tool, they will be treated as a tool, therefore, at an early age, Draco would become rather mindless . . . but if he was allowed to have a childhood like everyone else, if he was allowed to branch out, then maybe Draco would see things his own way, like any other child. Of course, since this takes place before the books you can see how Narcissa's plan backfired a bit since Lucius gave her son a normal childhood, yet planted a bunch of incorrect ideas in his mind. All in all, this is Narcissa's attempt to free her son from the Dark Lord without being too obvious.  
  
Gah, before I forget to mention it, if anyone is wondering, mendacium is Latin for the word lie . . . which is rather appropriate for the fic if I do say so myself, not to mention cool sounding.  
  
Oh, and by the way, I was going to put the following in the fic at one point when Narcissa is musing to herself, but in the end it drained the story, so I thought I'd stick it here, at the end, because I rather like the passage. Check it out:  
_"Why should he listen to her? She was merely a woman - a member of the weaker sex born to be wed into a rich and honorable family to create an heir for the master of the household, not for her opinion or actions in life."_


End file.
